The director's recent work may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a powerful acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
